Broken Angel

Chapter 15

With Barry's money transferred offshore. Terry, a tall, wiry and serious man, was a pro in his business. He parked his Silver BMW a safe distance from Abbey's flat. He always made sure his parking ticket was stuck on the windscreen, while he checked out the locale. A parking fine was the last thing he needed. For him, a rear garden made a quick escape from the property straight forward. His surveillance found an alleyway, which divided the rows of houses. He tried the gate to Abbey's, it was open, but he did not enter.

***

Abbey awoke at six and remained in bed for another hour before going for a shower. With a pot of fresh coffee brewing, she checked her emails and answered those requiring a comment. From a drawer, Abbey removed and opened one of her study folders. For the next hour, she read her notes and made the odd spelling correction. On checking her diary, a highlighted appointment with the clinic stood out. Also, a couple of lectures required her attendance. In two minds, she grabbed her laptop case, notes and handbag and set off for the doctor's surgery.

***

For three days, Terry watched and waited for the whole property to empty. Today and with his clipboard in plain sight, he climbed the steps to Abbey's building. One by one, he pressed the door entry system buttons and waited. When no one answered, the door lock clicked open at his first attempt. A gentle push and he was inside. For a few seconds, he stood still and listened. Once inside Abbey's flat, he opened the rear window wide in case he had to make a fast exit. His eyes scAnnied the kitchen until he found the gas supply to the boiler. Isolating the gas supply at the meter, he removed the metal coupling. "Ready for ignition and lift-off." He chuckled as he stuffed half a dozen sheets of paper under the electric grill.

Terry closed the open window. On his return to the kitchen, he switched on the grill, and his right foot booted the gas supply lever to open. Once outside, he waited in his car. A few minute's later the sound of glass shattering reached his ears. Satisfied, he drove away.

***

The Fire Brigade arrived as shrouds of black smoke billowed towards the sky. Firefighters ran out their hoses, while others prepared to enter the building.

In minutes, the three-man search and rescue team entered the building. In stages, they made their way towards Abbey's flat. At the far end of the street, a gas company employee isolated the gas main. Firefighters played their charged hoses through the damaged windows.

Police cars blocked the street. An officer raised his hand as Abbey went to duck under the blue tape. "You'll have to wait here until the brigade gives us the ok."

"Where...?" she started to say. "My flat is along this road."

"Number 14."

It was not cold, but Abbey trembled. "Is it a bad fire?"

The officer stared at her for a moment before speaking. "I suppose someone left the gas on, or it's a tumble drier fault. Don't understand why people leave the damn things running when they go out. Then we all live and learn. As far as I know, the place is empty."

Abbey hesitated, "It's where I live."

The officer gave her a huge grin. "Doesn't matter. You must stay here."

Abbey paced along the adjoining street, her thoughts a turmoil of possibilities. "Had she left something on? She did not think so but then in her condition had she forgotten? Again, she stopped and stared at the street of Georgian houses. Despite the fire, it stood as proof it existed. It remained like a black scar. Scorch marks spoiled the neighbouring homes. Saved by the firefighters, they remained habitable.

Again, she peered at the hard-at-it fire-fighters.

"Whose house?," asked Steve, his expression quizzical.